They are the remnants of a megalithic structure, possibly a tomb, that was once covered by a cairn, a mound of loose stones heaped over a burial chamber, roughly eight metres across in each direction. The cairn itself has long since been robbed out, its stones carried away for walls or field clearances over the centuries, leaving only a scatter of low orthostats, the upright slabs that once formed the skeleton of the structure, and what may be the partial remains of a kerb, the ring of stones that originally defined the cairn's edge, visible to the east and north.

What survives is fragmentary enough that the site resists easy classification. The orthostats form no clearly discernible shape, which makes it difficult to say with confidence what kind of megalithic monument this once was. What is clear is that somebody thought these stones worth leaving alone. According to a local landowner, the site was long known as the fairy stones, and it was considered bad luck to tamper with them. That protective reputation may well account for the fact that anything remains here at all. The association of prehistoric monuments with fairy activity is a thread that runs through Irish folk belief, and it served, in many cases, as an informal but effective form of preservation, where official designation failed or never reached.

The hillock sits in upland terrain with an open view southward towards the Galtee mountains, a placement that may not have been accidental. Many Irish megalithic structures occupy elevated ground, and the broader landscape setting was likely meaningful to those who built them, though what that meaning was is now beyond recovery from the physical evidence alone.